Книга - Living On The Edge

Living On The Edge
Susan Mallery


With his taut muscles and powerful gaze, bodyguard Tanner Keane was Madison Hilliard's only source of safety.Hired to rescue her, he kept her safe from a corrupt ex-husband who wanted her dead. So after days in close proximity–fear and desire escalating–who would save them from their wildest fantasies? Tanner liked his women easy, and Madison was a fighter. And as her presence brightened his house, he began to want her around all the time.For a man who was tough to the world, Tanner let the tender protector in him guide his actions. Yes, he would save her again. But of course, he was the one who was really in danger….









“You have to know you’re beautiful, Madison….”


Without meaning to, she touched her left cheek, fingering the scar there. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“The scar doesn’t matter,” he said.

In that moment she believed him.

Quiet settled between them. She found herself getting lost in his dark eyes, searching them for emotions and secrets. Tanner cared. It took a while to uncover the feelings, but they were there.

She suddenly realized he still held her hand. Somehow his fingers were tangled in hers and it felt…right.

Why was she attracted to Tanner? Was it the situation—a victim wildly grateful to her rescuer? Was it that everything was so raw between them, so there wasn’t time or energy for games? Was it the man himself?

Did it matter?


Living on the Edge

Susan Mallery






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SUSAN MALLERY

is the bestselling and award-winning author of over fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She makes her home in the Los Angeles area with her handsome prince of a husband and her two adorable-but-not-bright cats. Feel free to contact her via her Web site at www.susanmallery.com.




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20




Chapter 1


Given the choice, Tanner Keane preferred darkness to light, and tonight was no exception. It had taken him forty-eight hours to find the woman and her kidnappers, but he’d waited another thirty-six before going to rescue her—just so he could learn about their schedule and then go in at night.

He liked the shadows, the silence, the fact that most people were asleep. Even those awake were on the low end of their energy cycle—although not his men. He made sure of that.

Tanner checked the time, then glanced back at the two-story house. After nearly two weeks of watching over the woman, the guards had grown sloppy and complacent. They patrolled the estate on a schedule now, instead of at random intervals. After so many days of quiet, they no longer expected trouble. All the better for him.

He reached for his night-vision binoculars and trained them on the second-story bedroom windows. The third one from the left had open drapes, which allowed him a view of the darkened room. A woman paced there—restless, worried, scared.

Tall and willowy, she moved with the grace of someone trained in dance…and the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Blond, beautiful and worth about five hundred million—if he counted her daddy’s share of the family’s net worth.

Oh, yeah, he knew pretty much everything about her and he wasn’t impressed. Even now, he didn’t shift his binoculars to her. She was the target, but incidental to the moment. What he really needed to know was who else was in the room with her. How many watchers had been left on duty?

There were a total of five assigned to her—usually working in shifts of two. Except at night. From midnight until seven, there was only one woman keeping watch.

He scanned the room and saw the guard sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. From the tilt of her head, he would guess she’d fallen asleep.

Sloppy, he thought. If she worked for him, she would be fired. But she didn’t, and her bad habits were his gain.

He turned his attention back to the prisoner. Madison Hilliard crossed to the French doors and opened them. After glancing over her shoulder to make sure her keeper continued to doze, she stepped out into the cool California night and walked to the railing.

Her life had taken a turn for the unpleasant, Tanner thought without sympathy. Two weeks ago she’d been living in her rich-woman world and now she was held captive, threatened and never left alone. That was enough to ruin anyone’s day.

“Red Two, go,” a voice murmured into Tanner’s earpiece.

Tanner tapped the tiny device by way of a response. He was the operative closest to the mansion. Until it was time, he wouldn’t be doing any talking.

Madison lingered by the railing. Tanner tucked his binoculars in his backpack. There was no point in looking at her—he’d spent the past four days studying everything about her. He knew her age, her marital status, distinguishing marks, where she liked to shop and how very little she did with her day. She might be worth enough to keep a man in style, but she wasn’t his type. Not her pedigree, not her life, not her body. Rich women tended to be high maintenance, and Tanner liked his women easy…very easy.

He checked his watch again. Nearly time. He tapped once on his earpiece, then reached for his gun.

The modified pistol in his hand shot strong, incredibly fast sedatives. They incapacitated in less than five seconds. He preferred something a little faster, but this operation required more finesse than usual, and he couldn’t risk the potentially fatal reaction to a quicker-acting chemical. The client had insisted on no dead bodies.

Pity, Tanner thought as he began to creep toward the glass doors on the side of the house. He didn’t have much sympathy or patience for kidnappers. The outrageous ransom—twenty million dollars worth of unmarked bills in multiple foreign denominations—had annoyed him. He hated when criminals watched too much TV and took their ideas from bad spy movies. To his mind they should either act like pros or stay out of the game.

He reached the glass doors and waited. In less than three minutes, two things occurred simultaneously. Brody, their alarm maestro, tapped the “all clear” signal on his earpiece. A quick double click told Tanner that the system was down. Brody was good enough to keep the cameras moving back and forth while all the red lights continued blinking just as they should. The only difference was the alarm wouldn’t go off.

The second thing that happened was a guard strolled by, right on time.

Dumb-ass, Tanner thought as he spun silently, popped the guy full of sedative and held him immobile for five seconds. He dropped the dead weight not too gently onto the patio and rolled him out of sight next to the planter. There wasn’t any sound.

He touched his earpiece twice. Three more individual clicks followed.

“Red Two, go,” a soft voice came again.

Angel, Tanner’s best sniper, sat up high in a tree, out of range of the action. He kept an eye on everything happening. Only an idiot walked into hell without an angel watching for trouble.

Tanner moved to the locked glass doors and removed a small container from his utility belt. One minute later, the custom acid mixture turned the locking mechanism to mush and he was in. He pulled on night-vision goggles, double-clicked his earpiece to tell the team he’d completed the next phase of the operation and headed for the stairs.

At the top of the landing he encountered and immobilized another guard. But he didn’t head to the door midway down the hallway. Not until he’d heard three more individual clicks, followed by a soft “Red Two, go.”

Still clear.

Tanner emptied his mind of everything unessential. The floor plan of the suite had been etched into his brain. When last he’d seen Madison, she’d been on the balcony. Given her few freedoms in the past couple of weeks, he doubted she would have moved. Her guard would still be sleeping on the job. One shot would take care of her. With a little luck, she wouldn’t know what hit her.

He turned the container he still held and shot the second blast of acid from the back end. A slow count to sixty, then he eased the door open.

“Man on the stairs, Tanner. Watch your back.”

Tanner swore under his breath. There was an extra man on duty tonight. Wasn’t that always the way?

He left the door, pivoted and pressed his body into the shadows. Someone walked into view, his gun drawn.

“Natalie, are you all right? There’s been some trouble. A.J.’s missing.”

“What?”

When things went to hell, they did so at light speed. Madison’s female guard—aka Natalie—stumbled from her seat. Tanner heard the sound just as he zapped the guard. Unfortunately she tried the door and found it unlocked. There was the sound of a pistol being cocked.

Tanner dropped the guard onto the landing and waited for Natalie to come out, hoping she was just stupid enough not to follow orders. That rather than staying with her prisoner, she would venture onto the landing.

Sure enough, the door cracked open. He got her in the arm before she cleared the threshold. Which left Madison Hilliard all alone.

Tanner dragged a now-unconscious Natalie out of the way and headed into the suite. He hoped he didn’t have to go looking for the rich princess. He also hoped she wasn’t a screamer. He hated screamers…well, not in bed.

But Madison hadn’t hidden. She still stood by the railing, watching him approach.

“I’m one of the good guys,” he said. “Let’s move.”

Her long hair hid most of her face, but he thought he saw her smile. Coolly, though. Not with relief. She wasn’t going to throw herself at him with gratitude, but at least she didn’t seem to be a screamer.

“I always thought my rescuer would have a better line than that. Maybe ‘Come with me if you want to live.’”

Tanner couldn’t help an answering grin. “Yeah, I’m a Terminator fan, too, but I’d rather talk on the helicopter. Unless you’d like to stay here?”

She didn’t answer. Instead she walked toward him.

“Shoes,” he said. “Don’t sweat which ones. We’re not going to a fashion show.”

She stuffed her feet into loafers and hurried toward the door. He followed her. Once they reached the landing, he took the lead. After grabbing her hand in his, he hustled them down the stairs.

There was no point in telling the team he had her; everyone would have heard their conversation.

“You’re clear,” Angel said quietly. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

They headed out the rear of the house. Tanner pulled off the night-vision goggles as they went. The rumble of a helicopter started in the distance while he and Madison hovered by the edge of the patio.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “That’s my job.”

“Ah. The strong, silent type. That must have impressed my father.”

Tanner looked at her for the first time. Really looked. Madison Hilliard was no longer a glossy photo, but a real, breathing woman. Her long blond hair began to fly around her face as the helicopter started to descend. She tried to hold it at the back of her neck. One of the lights from the copter caught her full in the face.

Not much shocked Tanner—not anymore. But he was unprepared for the ugly slash scarring her left cheek and the way it contrasted with the beauty of her face. She saw him watching—staring—but didn’t blink or turn away.

The helicopter landed. Before they could board, there was a yell from behind the house. Tanner swore and turned in that direction.

“Two guards,” Angel said into his earpiece. “Son of a bitch. Early shift change. They just drove up. Kelly, get down. On your left. On your—”

The sound of gunfire cut out the rest of Angel’s words. The pitch and volume of the blasts told Tanner they hadn’t all come from his men’s guns. Not good, he thought grimly. His team quietly checked in, except for Kelly.

“Go,” he told the woman, pushing her into the helicopter.

Madison scrambled inside.

Tanner hated stepping in next to her, but his men were trained. They would fan out and find their fallen team member. Sure enough, less than two minutes later, three men appeared, although only two were walking. They carried the third between them.

“Get going,” Angel said into Tanner’s earpiece. “Kelly got both of the other men after they got him, but they’d already made a call requesting backup.”

“Will do. You get out of there, as well.”

“I’m already gone, boss.”

Tanner helped his men drag an unconscious and bleeding Kelly onto the floor of the helicopter, then he signaled for the pilot to take them up.

As they rose high in the sky, he checked his man. Two gunshots, both bad. One in the chest, one in the leg. Dammit all to hell, he thought grimly and glared at the woman huddled in the far seat. There were things worth dying for, but saving someone like her wasn’t one of them.

The other two team members had already started emergency first aid. Tanner moved back to give them room. He picked up a headset and motioned for Madison to do the same.

“Your reunion is going to have to wait,” he told her, speaking into the attached microphone. “I need to get my man to a doctor.”

Her gaze moved from him to Kelly, then back. “Of course. I can stay with you at the hospital.”

There was no point in telling her they weren’t going to a hospital. Public health facilities required too much paperwork, and the staff would have too many questions. Tanner had his own state-of-the-art medical center with trained specialists—all former military doctors—on call.

“One of my men will take you to a safe place,” Tanner told her. “You can wait there until I’m available to return you to your family.”

He figured Madison and her husband could hold on an extra hour or two before seeing each other. As his was the only face his clients ever saw, he would have to return her himself. Just as well—he could pick up his sizable check at the same time.

He jerked off the headset and fought his temper. It should have been an easy job, he told himself. No one was supposed to get hurt. Certainly not Kelly—the youngest and newest member of their team. Kelly had just gotten engaged the previous month. He was from Iowa, for God’s sake. This wasn’t supposed to happen to a kid from Iowa.



Madison Hilliard paced the length and width of the small room. She had no idea how long she’d been held there—no windows provided light, she wasn’t wearing a watch and she couldn’t find a clock. She figured at least a couple of hours had passed. Maybe more.

The space was spare to the point of being monastic—a single bed, a sink and a toilet. No closet, no desk. Nothing to read, nothing to look at, nothing to do. She supposed she should have slept—she hadn’t been able to do more than doze since the kidnapping. But anxiety kept her moving. While she wanted to believe she’d been rescued, she knew it was unlikely.

Fear gripped her. In the past twelve days she’d grown used to the cold fingers clutching her midsection and the sense of looming disaster. She tried to tell herself that someone, somewhere would miss her. That her clients would ask questions, that her friends would notice she’d disappeared. But would they? Wouldn’t Christopher have already thought of that and planned for the contingency?

The only door in the room was locked from the outside. She’d already tried it several times. There was no way she could break through the metal door and she doubted she could claw through the walls. So she was trapped until her rescuer returned to reunite her with her family. And then?

How long would Christopher keep her alive? A few weeks? Months? She didn’t know his plan, so she wasn’t sure if he needed her. That need was her only hope.

A faint sound came from the hallway. Madison turned and braced herself for the inevitable. For the sight of the man who wanted her dead. Instead the door opened and her rescuer stood in front of her.

He was tall, muscular and dark in a way that went deeper than his black hair and brown eyes. He was the kind of man people walked around rather than confronted. Power and confidence surrounded him like a visible aura. He wore black and there was a gun at his belt. How much did he know? Would he be using the gun on her?

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” the man said, sounding more angry than actually sorry.

“It’s all right. How is your friend?”

“Still in surgery.”

“I hope he’s going to be all right.” She didn’t need the weight of a stranger’s injuries on her already burdened conscience.

A case could be made that the shooting wasn’t her fault—she hadn’t asked to be rescued or even kidnapped in the first place. But the injured man had been there because of her, and she couldn’t make herself believe she wasn’t somehow responsible.

The man in front of her looked her over. “Are you hungry? Did they feed you?”

“I’m fine.” She couldn’t imagine ever eating again. She couldn’t imagine life ever being normal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Keane. Tanner Keane.”

“Mr. Keane, I’m assuming my family hired you to find me?”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Call me Tanner. And yes, your husband and your father came to me a few days ago. They’d hired another company to locate you after the kidnapping, but they didn’t have much luck.” He raised one shoulder, then let it fall. “I’m better.”

Interesting. Why would Christopher have gone to someone who wasn’t the best? He hated dealing with anyone who wasn’t completely qualified. She tried to focus on the question, on the point of it all, but lack of sleep made her fuzzy.

It had to be about money, she told herself. But how?

“Was there a ransom?” she asked.

“Twenty million.”

Madison felt her head start to swim. “That much.” She crossed to the bed and sank down onto the mattress. “Was it paid?”

“It would have been.” Tanner glanced at his watch. “In about two hours. I put in a call to have it intercepted. I’ll be returning the money to your family when I take you to them.”

Which was the problem, she thought. “My father hired you?”

“And your husband. They’re both very anxious to get you back. It’s understandable. This has been difficult for them, as well.”

Madison fought the urge to laugh. She had a feeling any humor would quickly explode into hysterics. Once she lost control, she might never get it back.

“Mr. Keane—Tanner—I don’t want to be returned to my family.”

One dark eyebrow rose slowly. “Why is that?”

“Do you need a reason? Can’t you simply let me go?”

“My contract with your family states that I return you to them. I would have done it right away, but Kelly’s medical treatment took priority.”

“I know and it’s fine. I just…” She stared at him, wondering how to make this man understand. “Unless you’re planning to hold me captive, as well, I should be free to go.”

If only he would agree. She could easily disappear—Los Angeles was a huge place and she had friends no one knew about.

“I can’t have you wandering the streets with no money or identification.”

Oh, right. No credit cards, either, although she didn’t think she could use them. Christopher would be able to track her.

Tanner gave her a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Mrs. Hilliard, you’ve been through a very traumatic experience. You’re confused, and that’s understandable. I’m sure when you’re back home with your husband and your father, you’ll feel much better. In a few weeks, you’ll be able to put this whole experience behind you.”

“I hope you’re right. Unfortunately I think there’s also a very good chance I’ll be dead.”




Chapter 2


Tanner held in a groan. He had neither the time nor the patience to deal with a drama queen right now. He wanted Madison Hilliard out of his life so he could focus on what was important. Dammit all to hell, what was it about rich women and their need to be the center of the universe?

“Wasn’t the kidnapping enough for one week?” he asked, barely able to restrain his temper.

“I’m not playing a game,” she said, her eyes wide with a lot of emotion he wasn’t interested in reading. “You can’t return me to my family. Take me anywhere else. Please.”

“How about a police station?”

She considered that option. Funny how he wasn’t surprised when she slowly shook her head. The cops wouldn’t be the kind of audience that interested her. They wouldn’t be willing to play her little game, either.

He narrowed his gaze as he wondered if mental problems ran in her family.

She took a step toward him. “Christopher is the one who kidnapped me. I was attacked and drugged as I walked into my condo. I couldn’t see anyone, but I recognized his watch right before I passed out. It’s very distinctive—he had it custom-made.”

“Uh-huh.” He would have to give her points for originality, if nothing else. “Can you prove it?”

“What? Of course not. It was a kidnapping. It’s not as if they sent me an itinerary ahead of time and used Christopher’s letterhead. But I know what I saw.”

Sure. “So tell me, Madison, why would your husband want to kidnap you?”

“I don’t know. I guess he needed the money.”

“You both already have plenty of that.”

“Christopher doesn’t have as much as you’d think. He’s always running short of cash. That’s the only thing that explains the excessive ransom.”

“Twenty million is a hell of a lot for him to need.”

She nodded. “Please. I know how this sounds. I know you have no reason to trust me, but things are not as they seem. Christopher lives on the edge. He gambles and usually loses a lot. He buys expensive pieces of art and furniture. Trust me, he always needs more money.”

“Nothing personal, Mrs. Hilliard, but I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t like me, either,” Madison said. “That’s okay. But it doesn’t give you the right to put me at risk.”

“I don’t believe you are. Why would your husband have hired two different companies to find you if he wanted you dead?”

“Because I’m worth more to him alive. You don’t actually know he hired another company. He could be lying.”

“Sure, and so could you.” Tanner reached the end of his attention span for this conversation. “I was hired by your husband and your father to find you, and I did. Because of that, one of my best men is close to death. All I want is my fee and you out of my life. I’m not interested in getting involved in whatever sick game you and your husband are playing.”

With that, he turned and headed for the door.

Madison rushed toward him. “We’re not married. Did he tell you that? We’ve been divorced for over six months. I’m sure there’s a way you could check the court records to verify it.”

Tanner stared at her. Divorced? He glanced at her left hand. No ring and no marks to show one had been removed recently. Neither Hilliard nor her father had said anything about a divorce. In fact, Hilliard had made it very clear he wanted his wife home with him, where she belonged. Tanner remembered wondering about Mrs. Hilliard’s feelings on being such an important possession.

Not that it changed anything, he told himself. Divorced or not, he’d been paid to complete a job and he had. Except…

He swore under his breath. There was something about her desperation, something about her words and, most important, something about the tension in his gut. He’d learned from hard experience to never ignore that feeling.

Madison must have sensed she had his attention, because she started talking very quickly.

“I left him nearly two years ago. He spent the first six months trying to convince me to come back and the next year fighting the divorce. Fortunately California is a no-fault state, and in the end, he couldn’t stop it.”

“Why was he so interested in keeping a woman who wanted to get away?”

“Money.”

“You’ve brought that up before. Your ex is loaded.”

She shook her head. “No. He’s not. His lifestyle sucks up a lot of his company profits. Plus he’s into something big. I don’t know what it is—I’ve only heard my father talking about it from time to time.”

“Didn’t he get a big chunk of your net worth after the divorce?”

“No. There was a pretty tight prenuptial agreement.” For the first time since he’d met her, she smiled. “Besides, I’m not worth all that much on my own. The bulk of the family fortune is tied up in Adams Electronics. My father is the principal stockholder, not me. I only own a few thousand shares. Christopher did get the house, which was fine with me.”

So Hilliard had lost the eye-candy wife and access to the big bucks. That couldn’t have made him happy.

“He and your father are working on something together. It came up in my research,” Tanner told her.

“I know. I’ve read the same thing. I don’t talk to my father about it. I’ve tried to convince him to stop doing business with Christopher, but he won’t listen. He doesn’t understand how I could have let such a good man get away.”

She tilted her head, which caused her long blond hair to fall away from her face, exposing the side with the still-red scar. He narrowed his gaze. Why would such a beautiful woman keep such an ugly mark on her face? She would have had access to the best plastic surgeons in the world, along with the money to pay them. As much as he hated to admit it, a lot of things didn’t make sense.

“He set up the kidnapping to get the ransom money,” she said earnestly. “I doubt there was any other company looking for me. I’m sure he told my father there was to keep him from worrying.”

“Why wouldn’t your father have insisted on going to the police?”

Her mouth twisted. “He trusts Christopher implicitly. As far as he was concerned, his son-in-law would handle everything perfectly.” She glanced down at the floor, then back at him. “My father is something of an absentminded professor. He likes it best when the real world doesn’t interfere with his time in the lab.”

Which meant what? That her father hadn’t been all that worried about the kidnapping because good old Hilliard was taking care of it?

Tanner recalled his meeting with the two men. Hilliard had done all the talking. Blaine Adams had seemed concerned, but not overly so.

“If nothing else, you should make sure you get paid,” Madison told him. “My ex has a bad habit of offering fees in halves. Half up front, half at the end of the deal. Only that second half doesn’t ever seem to get paid.”

“Hilliard wouldn’t try that with me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’d hunt him down and make him beg to give me the rest of my money.”

“Good luck with that.”

She spoke with the confidence of someone who had lived the truth. Tanner grimaced as he realized he’d carefully checked out Blaine Adams when he’d taken the job, but he’d only done a cursory check on Hilliard. After all, Daddy had been the one paying the ransom. But Hilliard had offered to take care of the bill.

Sloppy work, he told himself. Sloppy gets you dead.

He glared at Madison. He didn’t have time for this or her or her sob story. He wanted her gone. But he couldn’t—not with his gut whispering that she just might be telling the truth. Hilliard kidnapping his ex-wife to get his hands on the family money wasn’t his business, but he wouldn’t send her back if she was at risk. No matter how much he wanted to.

He was going to have to check out her story.

“I don’t believe you for a second,” he said flatly. “But I’ll look into what you’ve told me.”

Her relief was a tangible creature in the room. Before she could get too relaxed, Tanner moved close and cupped her neck. He applied just enough pressure to make it difficult for her to breathe.

“If you’re playing me for a fool, I’ll make you sorry. Is that clear?”

Her eyes widened. Color fled her face, but her gaze never wavered. She stared right back at him and slowly nodded.

He acknowledged that she hadn’t flinched. At least she had some backbone. And she wasn’t a screamer. Two small points in her favor.

When he released her, she stood her ground. She didn’t whimper or complain or even rub her neck.

“You don’t understand,” she told him quietly. “There’s nothing you can do that’s worse than what Christopher has already done to me. I’m not trying to trick you, I just want to stay alive.”

Funny how at that moment, he almost wanted it to be true. That she was just what she said.

Not a snowball’s chance, he thought. He studied her face, her long blond hair, her slender body. Except for the scar, she was perfect. Tall, leggy, beautiful. And completely useless.

He had no time for women like her in his life, but he wouldn’t mind finding her in his bed—just for the night. She would be a hell of a ride.



Tanner left Madison in the holding cell and returned to the front office of the small warehouse building he rented down by the airport. His laptop sprang to life when he hit the keys. Seconds later, he was on the Internet and tapping into sources to check out what Madison had said about her ex.

Two hours later, he had a detailed financial profile of Christopher Hilliard, along with e-mails from two informants. Word on the street was that Hilliard had a habit of skipping out on bills. An interesting practice for someone born to money. There were also some hints about shady dealings, but nothing specific. The most interesting point came from a casino employee Tanner had on retainer. Hilliard liked the high-stakes games, but they didn’t like him. He was up to his eyeballs in serious debt to some not-friendly people. Could that be why he needed the ransom money?

Speaking of which…He made a quick call, then leaned back in his chair. Now what? While he didn’t want to believe Madison, so far he hadn’t caught her in a lie. Sure, she wasn’t anyone he could respect, but that didn’t mean he wanted her dead. And until he was sure, she remained his responsibility.

Might as well get it over with, he told himself as he reached for the phone again. This time he called Blaine Adams’s house. The older man picked up on the first ring.

“Adams here.”

“Tanner Keane.”

“At last. Hold on, Mr. Keane.” There was a second of silence followed by Adams saying, “Christopher, it’s Mr. Keane. Pick up in the library.”

Tanner waited through the quiet. Then he heard a click and Hilliard was on the line.

“Keane? What the hell is going on? Where’s my wife?”

Ex-wife, Tanner thought, wondering who was playing what game with him.

“I have her with me. She’s safe.”

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. I should have listened to you before, Christopher. You said Mr. Keane was the best. Is Madison all right?”

“She’s perfectly fine. Anxious to see you both.”

“Good, good. Well done.” Blaine cleared his throat. “All right, then. Christopher, I’ll leave this to you. I need to get back to the lab. I have a meeting, some work…”

His voice trailed off as if he’d already left but had forgotten to hang up the phone. Seconds later, the receiver had been replaced.

Tanner had tried to think of ways to get Blaine off the phone, but it turned out fate had been kind. Now it was just him and Hilliard.

“You must have been worried,” Tanner said.

“Of course. We’ve all been sick. That other company I hired—what a bunch of incompetent asses.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Tanner leaned back in his chair and prepared to begin the game. “What was the name of the company? The first one you hired.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“People ask me about the competition. I don’t want to recommend someone who can’t do the job.”

Hilliard chuckled. “I doubt you recommend anyone, Keane.”

Interesting. So Hilliard wasn’t going to tell him. Which made Tanner wonder if Madison had been right—maybe there hadn’t been a first company. Maybe Hilliard had simply waited to hire Tanner to make things look more desperate. That would help Blaine come to terms with such a steep ransom.

“How is she? Really, I mean,” Hilliard said. “Madison was never very strong emotionally.”

“Relieved. They beat her up pretty badly.”

“What? No. They wouldn’t have.”

Tanner nodded slowly. Not exactly the normal response of a worried and grieving husband.

“Why would they do that?” Hilliard ask. “They wanted ransom money, not to hurt her. I didn’t think kidnappers hurt their victims. I want those people found. I want them punished for what they did to my wife.”

It wasn’t much of a recovery, Tanner thought, but then maybe he was reading too much into the conversation. Still, it was interesting that Hilliard characterized his wife as emotionally weak. From what Tanner had seen of Madison, she was tough. She’d been through hell, possibly at the hands of her ex-husband, and she was still holding it together.

“Not my line of work,” Tanner told him. “You’ll have to find someone else for that job. Oh, I almost forgot. About the ransom…” He paused deliberately, giving Hilliard time to sweat.

“Yes? It was paid.”

“No. Once I had Madison, I sent my men to intercept it.”

There was only silence. Tanner waited. If Hilliard wasn’t involved and if he hadn’t done it for the money, he wouldn’t care one way or the other.

“Where is the money now?” Hilliard asked, his voice carefully neutral.

But Tanner had been in the business for too long to be fooled. The other man was angry and frustrated. He’d wanted the ransom delivered. Dammit all to hell, he thought grimly. Madison was right. Her ex was in this up to his eyeballs. But how? And why?

Questions to be answered later.

“I’m having the ransom delivered to Mr. Adams at his office. I’ve notified his banker, as well, so he’ll be there to take possession of the money. It’s a lot of cash to have lying around. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it.”

“You’re very thorough,” Hilliard said, his rage barely concealed.

“That’s what you pay me to be. Speaking of which, you owe me the second half of my fee.”

“Yes. Of course.” Hilliard sucked in a breath. “Where is Madison? Are you having her delivered to her father’s office, as well?”

“That’s a funny thing,” Tanner said, enjoying the moment. “She’s pretty shaken, as you can imagine. Right now she just wants to lay low for a while.”

“What, exactly, does that mean?”

“She’ll be my guest for a few days.”

Hilliard swore. “You can’t do that. You’re just as bad as they are. I suppose we’ll be getting a ransom demand from you, as well.”

“I’m not holding your wife against her will, Mr. Hilliard. This is at her very specific request.”

“I want my wife back immediately. It’s what you were hired to do. If you don’t return her, I’ll go to the police.”

“In your position, that’s what I’d do, as well,” Tanner told him.

“You can’t do this.”

“I just did.”

Tanner hung up the phone and wondered what would happen next. If he and Madison were wrong and Hilliard wasn’t playing a game, he would go directly to the police. But Tanner doubted that was likely. There was something going on—something that had cost Hilliard twenty million dollars.



Christopher did his best to lose himself in work, but it was impossible. Rage interfered with his concentration. How could things have gone so badly?

He knew Madison was responsible. The bitch had been nothing but an impediment for the past three years. He’d married her expecting someone beautiful and brainless to decorate his world. Instead she’d gotten a job, gotten involved and made his life a living hell. She had opinions, damn her.

His phone rang. He wanted to rip it out of the wall, but he forced himself to answer it.

“Hilliard,” he said.

“Ah, Christopher. So glad I caught you.” Blaine Adams rambled on about problems with a circuit board.

Christopher tried to concentrate and offer reasonable suggestions when what he really wanted was to ask the old man how he could be so stupid. Didn’t he realize what was going on in his own company or with his own daughter? Better for Christopher that he didn’t, but how could one person be so unaware?

“Oh,” the older man said when they’d finished the mini brainstorming session. “A very nice young man stopped by earlier with the ransom money. That Mr. Keane said it would be delivered here, and it was. My banker has already taken possession of it. You were right to hire that Mr. Keane. A fine man.”

“One of the best,” Christopher said between clenched teeth. “I’d heard Keane was efficient.”

“And so he was. Now Madison can concentrate on relaxing and getting over this horrible ordeal. You’ll be there for her, won’t you, Christopher?”

“Of course. You know Madison is my life.”

“Yes, yes. It’s a pity she got so headstrong and left. I’m sure it was nothing but a misunderstanding. I’m counting on you to win her back. Show her your soft side. She’ll need that over the next few weeks. Unfortunately my little girl has too much of her mother in her. Little can be done with a weak mind.”

“I love her anyway,” Christopher said.

“I know. You’re a good man. Like a son to me.” Blaine chuckled. “What a cliché. All right, back to work, my boy. The same for me. These problems won’t solve themselves, will they?”

With that, the old man hung up. Christopher slammed the receiver back into place. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on Madison. He wouldn’t just show her his softer side, as her father had requested, he would strangle the bitch with his bare hands.

How had it all gone wrong? Keane wasn’t supposed to intercept the ransom. Christopher had been counting on that money. He’d needed fifteen of the twenty million for his next payment to Stanislav. The Russian Mafia did not like to be kept waiting. The remaining five million had been to cover his gambling losses. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He stood, crossed to the credenza against the wall, picked up the vase there and threw it into the closed door. The loud smash followed by the rain of shards on the hardwood floor made him feel better for a brief second or two, but then desperation and panic returned.

He needed the next phase of the jamming system. He’d already arranged a press conference to announce it and if he canceled now, people would talk. Word would travel around the industry that his program was in trouble. No, he had to get the money somehow.

He returned to his desk and glanced at the calendar. There wasn’t much time left. Stanislav had warned him that if he was late again, the Russian would find another buyer. Christopher couldn’t let that happen. He needed the cutting-edge technology and the billions it would bring in to his company and, therefore, to him. He wanted to be the biggest and the best, then he wanted to destroy everyone who had ever said he couldn’t do it.

And he wanted Madison back. He wanted her crawling, broken and bleeding. He would use her until she begged and then he would kill her.

When that happened, it would be a very good day.




Chapter 3


Madison walked back and forth in the small room until her legs and back ached, then she perched on the edge of the bed and stared at the door. Once again, she had no idea of how much time had passed or when Tanner Keane would return. She only knew she was desperately afraid he wouldn’t find whatever he’d gone looking for and that he would return her to Christopher. One thing she’d learned in the past few days was that she wasn’t ready to die.

She rested her elbows on her thighs and dropped her head to her hands. Thoughts swirled—a kaleidoscope of the mistakes she’d made that had brought her to this place. Had it started when she’d fallen for Christopher, or did the roots go deeper than that? Had her first sin been committed when she’d grown up spoiled and selfish, never looking at the world beyond what it could offer her?

A sound caught her attention. She straightened, then stood, only to sink back onto the bed when the room seemed to swim around her. In the time it took to clear her head, the door opened and Tanner stepped inside.

She forced herself to her feet and stared at him. His expression gave nothing away, which shouldn’t surprise her. She wanted to speak, to ask about her fate, but her mouth was too dry. The ever-present fear grew until it pushed the air out of her body.

“I had an interesting talk with your husband,” he said as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ex-husband,” she whispered, never taking her gaze from his face.

“Funny how he doesn’t mention that, although I checked on the records, and you’re right. The divorce is final.”

Some small measure of relief battled for space with the fear. Did that mean he would believe her? That she could be safe for a little while longer?

She waited, instinctively knowing it would be better if he spoke rather than her.

“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly.

The blood seemed to rush from her body, leaving her cold and boneless. She sank to the bed as the room spun and a high-pitched sound filled her head.

“But I don’t believe him, either.”

Madison blinked. “W-what?”

“Something’s not right. I think you’re a rich bitch drama queen, but I’m not convinced your ex is telling the truth. There are secrets on both sides, and I want to know what they are.”

He defined her in words designed to wound, but right now she didn’t care what he thought of her.

“You’re not sending me back?” she asked, barely daring to hope.

“Not yet.”

Fear receded, leaving little to support her, and she swayed slightly. Tanner frowned.

“When was the last time you ate or slept?” he asked.

“It’s been a while.”

His face tightened with contempt. “I know it’s stylish to be stick-thin, but starvation isn’t much of a fashion statement.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t eat there. Or sleep. This isn’t about being on a diet. I just…” She drew in a breath. “Have you ever been kidnapped? It’s not a restful situation.”

He didn’t look convinced. The man didn’t like her, and she found the realization oddly comforting. He didn’t want anything from her except the truth. He was good enough not to be willing to return her to a situation that might be dangerous, but he wasn’t interested in what he could get from her.

But she did have something to offer him.

“I’ll pay you for your protection,” she said. “Double whatever Christopher offered you.”

Tanner’s gaze narrowed and his mouth twisted. “Don’t make me think less of you than I already do,” he said flatly. “I’m not doing this for the money.”

She wanted to ask why he was then. Why didn’t he just let her go and be killed? But she didn’t—there was no point in pushing him.

“I find it interesting that you’ve taken such a dislike to me when you don’t know me at all,” she said instead.

“I know your type.”

“What type is that?”

“Rich. Useless.”

He spoke with a certainty that told her she wasn’t the first wealthy woman to cross his path and that whoever had done it before had scarred him in some way. A lover? A client?

Tanner straightened. “I’m moving you to a safe house. No one will be able to find you there, so you can eat and get some sleep. I’ll keep on investigating Hilliard. If I turn up enough evidence to validate what you’ve told me, we’ll talk about you hiring me to protect you. If you’re lying…”

His voice trailed off. She had no doubt there would be some serious punishment involved. Still, she wondered if he could come up with anything worse than what she’d already endured. He didn’t seem to be the type to use physical force against someone so ill equipped to handle it. She supposed rape was a possibility, but she doubted that was his style. Wasn’t rape supposed to be about power? Tanner was the most powerful man she’d ever met. He would hardly need to prove himself.

Oh, but he would think of something. She was confident. She supposed she should worry about that, but she couldn’t. After all she’d been through in the past ten days, she couldn’t find the strength to be any more afraid.

“I accept your terms.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in an almost smile. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Perhaps not, but I accept them anyway.”

“I’m going to have to blindfold you. The safe house works only as long as no one knows where it is. If the idea of a blindfold freaks you out, I can sedate you.”

The idea of a blindfold terrified her. It was too much like being kidnapped all over again. But the thought of being drugged was worse.

“I prefer the blindfold. I don’t like the idea of losing control.”

“Some people spend their whole lives looking for the perfect way to do just that.”

“Not me.” She stared at him and had the odd thought she very much wanted him to like her. “I’m not what you think.”

He looked instantly bored. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked out of the room, leaving the door open. Madison stared at the narrow concrete hallway and wondered if his actions were a test to see if she could be trusted. It didn’t matter. She had no plans to bolt for freedom. Right now Tanner was all that stood between her and Christopher. She already knew what her ex-husband was capable of. For now she was more than willing to put her fate into the hands of a stranger. With Tanner, the odds were a whole lot better.

If Madison had been asked to guess, she would have said the drive had taken about forty-five minutes. She’d been put in the rear of a van of some kind. There weren’t any seats, but there were plenty of blankets. She’d curled up on them and listened to the sound of the engine and the road. Exhaustion had claimed her a few times and she’d dozed for a second or two.

When the van stopped, she straightened. She heard a garage door opening, then the van moved forward and the garage door closed behind it. There was the click of the lock followed by the creak of metal as the rear of the vehicle opened.

“You can take off the blindfold now,” Tanner said.

For reasons that had made no sense to her, he hadn’t tied her hands. She reached up and pulled off the blindfold, only to find herself in a dark box inside a van. Of course, she thought, knowing that if she’d been less exhausted she would have found the situation humorous. He hadn’t tied her hands because once she was in the van it hadn’t mattered if she’d removed the blindfold. There was nothing for her to see.

Very slick, she thought as she crawled to the end of the van and stepped down.

Lack of food and sleep made her shaky. She stumbled as she tried to stand. He grabbed her by the arm and held her steady.

“You’ve been tough all through this,” he said gruffly. “Don’t faint on me now.”

“I won’t,” she promised, although she wasn’t completely sure of her facts.

“Come on. I’ll give you the quick tour, then you can crash for a few hours.”

Sleep sounded like heaven. Maybe here, with Tanner watching over her, she would feel comfortable enough to relax.

He released her arm and motioned for her to step around him. After closing the back of the van, he led the way into the house.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected—perhaps some high-tech, modern space done in shades of white. What she found instead was a sprawling single-story ranch-style home with a few modifications.

From the garage they passed through a laundry room and into a hallway that led into a large family room. There was a big-screen television and several electronic components, along with two black leather sofas. The house itself might be forty or fifty years old, but the paint and the furniture looked relatively new.

Madison glanced at the ceiling, looking for cameras or some kind of monitoring device. She didn’t see any. She did notice a strange screening material over the windows and pointed to it.

“No one can see in,” Tanner said. “And you can’t get out. But the windows all open if you feel the need for fresh air.”

She was less worried about that than being trapped. “What if there’s a fire?”

“There won’t be.”

He walked into a large kitchen and pointed out the basic amenities. There was already plenty of food in the refrigerator and pantry. Simple things that were easy to prepare.

“Help yourself,” he told her.

She nodded, knowing she had to eat something eventually, but right now all she wanted was sleep.

Next up was what would have been the formal living and dining room. Instead she saw several desks and shelves, all crammed with electronic equipment. None of it made sense to her. There were screens and keyboards and odd display units.

Tanner stepped inside and grabbed something from a nearly empty desk. She didn’t see what it was until he returned to her side and snapped it on her wrist.

“What on earth?” She stared at the gray metal bracelet. There was no visible catch, no markings of any kind.

“My game, my rules,” he said. “You play by them or I return you to your ex.”

“Why?” she asked, not sure if she was asking why he’d done it or why she didn’t get a say in the rules.

“I don’t trust you,” he said flatly.

Good to know where she stood. “You could just let me go. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“If he’s everything you say, he’ll find you within twenty-four hours. Is that what you want?”

No, but she didn’t want this either, she thought as she rubbed the bracelet. “What does it do?”

“Keeps you safe and keeps you here.” He motioned to the control center of the house.

Madison glanced at him, then back to the bracelet before taking a step forward.

“You have entered an unauthorized area,” a female computerized voice said. “Please return to an authorized area or an alarm will sound.”

She jumped back. “It’s some kind of monitoring system.”

“Exactly. You can go anywhere you want in the house except for in here and within five feet of the front and back door. There’s a patio off the family room. You can go as far as the overhang.”

She tried to make herself feel better by thinking that at least an alarm sounding was better than him blowing off her hand, but she wasn’t all that comforted. Tanner might be her only shot at staying alive, but she’d just exchanged one prison for another.

“My rules,” he repeated.

“I got that.”

She had a choice. She could accept them or she could be returned to Christopher. On second thought, not much of a choice at all.

For the first time since she’d been kidnapped, she had the overwhelming urge to cry. She wanted to slump down on the floor and sob until everything was better. Instead she sucked in a breath and forced herself to stay strong. Tanner was her only hope. She needed him on her side. He seemed to appreciate strength, so that’s what she would show him.

“Anything else?” she asked, feeling her exhaustion down to her bones.

“No. Your room is down here.”

He led her along another hallway before turning into a cheery bedroom. There was a full-size bed, a dresser with a television on it, two nightstands and a small desk. One door led into a closet, the other to a small bathroom, complete with a shower.

Madison had only been allowed to bathe every third day while she’d been kidnapped. She longed for some serious water time. But first, sleep.

He glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you rest for three or four hours. Then you can eat.”

“Fine.”

He walked to the door, then paused and turned back to her. “No phone, no contact with the outside world.”

She wasn’t even surprised. “So you could kill me and no one would ever know where I’d been or where to find the body.”

His dark gaze settled on her face. “That’s right.”

“Good to know.”

That bit of bravado took her last ounce of strength. When he left, she collapsed on the bed and let the tears flow. She wanted to scream that this wasn’t fair—that she hadn’t asked for any of it. But what was the point? She was here, stuck, afraid for her life. There was no going back. Just forward. She would get through this because the alternative was to get dead, and she refused to let Christopher win.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She’d been right when she’d said that no one would ever know where she’d been. She’d already been gone for twelve days and apparently no one had alerted the police. No doubt Christopher had come up with a story to cover her absence.

Her father had known the truth, of course, but he would have left all the details to his son-in-law. Even now, with her supposedly free but not there, Christopher would probably say she was resting. Recovering her strength—a euphemism for something she didn’t want to think about.

Her father would believe him because Blaine liked his world simple. Nothing beyond his lab mattered.

She fingered the bracelet on her left wrist. Somehow it transmitted her position in the house. Maybe it did other things. Tanner was certainly thorough.

Who was this man who obviously didn’t like her in the least and yet offered to help her? Why did he care if she lived or died?

Maybe he didn’t, she thought, rolling onto her side and closing her eyes. Maybe she simply wasn’t allowed to get dead on his watch. Unless he decided to kill her himself.

He was a professional, she reminded herself. If he did want to take her out, it would be quick. A small comfort, but in her current situation, nearly the only one she had.

And until that moment, if it ever came, Tanner would keep her safe. She believed that down to her bones. While she was under his protection, nothing bad could happen to her. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Funny how a man who obviously despised her without bothering to get to know her could give her such a feeling of comfort.




Chapter 4


Tanner double-checked that the alarm system was activated, then settled into his office to get some work done. Every half hour or so, he glanced at the display screen, but Madison didn’t move.

Sleep would do her good, he thought. She’d been through hell. He had a feeling things would get worse before they got better, but they would deal with that when it happened. For now it was enough that she rested. Later they would talk and he would get more information on Hilliard.

Speaking of which…He returned his attention to the computer file he’d begun to build. Access to personal financial records could take a day or so. In the meantime, he filled in what he could about the man’s past.

An hour later someone rang the bell. Tanner glanced at the security-camera monitor and recognized the man standing on the front porch. Angel was right on time.

“What’s the word?” he asked, after letting the other man into the house.

Angel, a tall, dark man with steely gray eyes and a scar that ran down his neck, shrugged. “Kelly’s holding his own. He survived the surgery. Doc says that’s good. Now we wait and see if he recovers. He lost a lot of blood.”

“Brain damage?”

“They don’t know yet.”

“Odds?”

Angel shrugged again. “I didn’t want to hear anything bad so I didn’t ask.”

Tanner wouldn’t have, either. He took the wrapped package Angel offered, then asked, “You okay with the Calhoun job?”

“Sure thing. We’ve got three teams on the kid. Full-time. His crazy uncle isn’t getting anywhere close.” Angel’s eyes brightened with interest. “If he does, I’ll take him down.”

Jefferson Alexander Calhoun III, was all of seven and an orphan. His parents had been killed in circumstances that could only be labeled suspicious, although the local police hadn’t put together a case yet. The boy’s maternal grandmother was concerned her youngest son had done it to make sure he inherited the bulk of the family fortune. She’d hired Tanner’s company to protect the life of her only grandchild.

“If you have to take him out, make sure you’re on the correct side of the law,” Tanner reminded his right-hand man.

Angel smiled slowly. “I wouldn’t do it any other way.”

They discussed other jobs for a few more minutes, then Angel left. Tanner appreciated that the other man hadn’t asked about Tanner’s unexpected guest or the contents of the package. Tanner wasn’t sure he could explain either. He was working based on very few facts but a strong feeling in his gut.

Hell of a way to do business, he thought as he dumped the package on a kitchen counter, then returned to his office to continue with his research.

Two hours later, he took a break to shower and change his clothes. When he walked back into the control room, he saw Madison was up and moving around. He detoured by the kitchen, grabbed the package and walked to her bedroom.

He found her standing on the desk chair, inspecting the moldings attached to the ceiling. She stood on tiptoe, her expression intense, her fingers probing every inch of the painted wood.

“It’s not fancy, I’ll admit,” he said, “but I thought it looked decent enough. Are you disagreeing with me?”

Madison jumped when she heard his voice and turned on the chair. “What? You startled me.”

He jerked his head toward the wall. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m looking for the cameras,” she said. “Is there anywhere in this room where I can go and not be watched?”

It took him a couple of seconds to make sense of her words. When he did, anger quickly followed.

“You think I’m spying on you?” he asked, annoyance tightening his voice.

She’d slept hard—her hair was mussed and there was a crease in her right cheek. She was wrinkled, in need of a shower and still pretty sleep deprived. But she stared back with a defiance that earned his grudging respect.

“What else should I think?” she asked, shaking her bracelet-clad wrist at him. “This place is more secure than my local bank vault. You’ve got a computer telling me where I can and can’t go. Special screens on the windows so I can’t escape. I’m your prisoner. Why wouldn’t you spy on me?”

“Because I don’t need to get my rocks off by watching you prance around in your underwear.”

He dropped the package on the bed, crossed to the chair and grabbed her around the waist. Before she could react, he’d lowered her to the ground. He had a brief impression of heat and a too-thin body lacking curves before he released her and stepped away.

She glared at him. “I could have gotten down on my own.”

“I’m sure you could have.”

He took her hand in his and dragged her out of the room. She sputtered in protest but didn’t pull away. As they approached the control room, he pulled a remote from his pocket and hit a button to deactivate the system. Then he brought her to the control panel, released her hand and pointed.

She rubbed her fingers and ignored the monitor. “Is there a reason you don’t try asking me to go with you first? I assure you my intent is to cooperate. There’s no need to be dragging and lifting all the time.”

“Are you complaining about your treatment?”

“Yes.”

“So noted.”

Her gaze narrowed, and he could tell she wondered if the notation meant anything. He decided to keep her guessing about that, if nothing else.

“You’re not looking,” he said, still pointing to the monitor.

“At what?” She turned slowly and stared at the screen.

The picture showed a floor plan of the house, with all the rooms labeled. Exactly in the center of the room named Control Center stood a red dot.

“I’m the dot?” she asked.

“Walk around and find out.”

She did as he suggested, moving to the window, then back toward the door. The dot on the screen moved with her.

Her attention shifted from the computer to him. “No pictures?” she asked.

“Not even a camera.”

“I’m transmitting to that screen through the bracelet?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” She glanced down at her wrist, then back at him. “It was a logical conclusion.”

Her eyes were blue. He’d registered the fact before but hadn’t paid any attention to them. Now he saw they were a deep, true color. She was pale—maybe from lack of sleep or food. Whatever the reason, her scar seemed more pronounced. Again he wondered why she hadn’t gotten it fixed.

She had the kind of hair teenage boys daydreamed about—straight, long and blond. Even with the scar she was beautiful. Not that he was interested.

“Logical,” he agreed. “But I’m not the kind of guy who likes to watch.”

Her delicate eyebrows rose. “I thought all men were into that.”

He allowed himself a smile. “Maybe under different circumstances. Not like this.”

“Good to know.” She glanced around the room. “Do I get to find out what this equipment is for?”

“It’s computers mostly. Some tracking equipment. I have a monitoring system for the house.”

“No one gets in, no one gets out?”

“Not on my shift.”

She walked to the window and looked out. He knew the view was little more than some lawn and a high fence topped with razor wire.

“Do you live here?” she asked, still looking out.

“No. I told you, it’s a safe house.”

“Who else do you bring here?”

“Sorry. That information is classified.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “But it does make me wonder. What exactly do you do with your life that you own a house like this?”

“I prepare in advance for whatever my clients might need.”

She walked back toward him. “Who’s your client now? Me? Christopher?”

“I’m winging it.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does that often.”

He shrugged. “I try to be flexible.”

Their eyes met. He read questions in hers. No fear, though, which he respected. She wasn’t what he’d thought. Maybe not as useless as most women like her. She had backbone and more than a little—

He felt it then. Subtle at first, but growing. It filled the room, pressing in on him, stealing air, heating breath.

Awareness.

Of her. The scent of her skin, the way she moved. In the blink of an eye she went from someone he had to protect to a woman.

Dammit all to hell, he thought grimly. This was not allowed. He didn’t get involved with clients. Not ever.

“I got you some clothes,” he said and retraced his steps to the kitchen.

He heard her follow. When she’d cleared the control room, he hit the remote to reset the security system, then stopped by the package.

“One of my men came by with it,” he told her.

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s so complicated? I sent one of my guys to your place to get you some things.”

“A man was in my condo?”

She sounded more surprised than outraged. Tanner pushed the package toward her.

“I doubt he spent a lot of time in your underwear drawer. You’ve been wearing what you have on for days. I thought you’d like something clean.”

“I do. Thank you. I’m just not sure…How did he get in? What if Christopher is watching the building?”

“I’m guessing your ex had someone there. Don’t worry. No one saw Angel.”

“And how did he get in?”

Tanner shrugged. “He has his ways. Go on—” he pointed to her room “—take a shower, change your clothes. Then we’ll eat. I have a lot of questions I need to ask you about your ex-husband.”

“Sure. Okay.” She picked up the package, then smiled. “Thanks.”

With that, she walked down the hall. Tanner waited until she disappeared before heading into the control room. He watched the small red dot move on the screen. When it eased from the bedroom to the bathroom, he had to force himself to keep his attention on work and not on the thought of a naked woman stepping into the shower.



A three-hour nap and a shower had gone a long way to perking up Madison. The guy Tanner had sent to her house had brought back the basics—jeans, T-shirts, a couple of nightgowns and a few toiletries. She tried not to freak out at the thought of a strange man going through her underwear drawer and reminded herself that after all she’d been through, having a stranger grabbing bras and panties was the least of her problems.

After washing out the panties and bra she’d been wearing for the past ten days, she dried her hair. As she put away her blow-dryer, she realized she could smell something cooking. The delicious scent of tomato sauce and garlic had her mouth watering and her stomach growling. She felt like a cartoon animal floating along on the smell as she followed the scent down the hall and into the kitchen.

Tanner stood at the stove. He turned as she entered and smiled. She wasn’t sure what shocked her more—that he was cooking or the smile itself. Both were unexpected, although the curve of his mouth made her uneasy in ways she couldn’t define.

“Nothing fancy,” he told her. “Spaghetti, meat sauce and a salad.”

Her stomach growled again. She suddenly felt faint with hunger. “At this point I’d eat anything.”

He jerked his head toward the table. “Then have a seat.”

The round table had already been set with place mats, napkins and flatware. She settled in a chair just as he brought over a large bowl of pasta and another of salad.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked. “We have all the basics.”

“Just water,” she answered, as her stomach tightened in anticipation of food.

“Dig in,” he told her.

She decided to take him at his word. She scooped up a large serving of the meat-covered pasta and dumped it on her plate. Salad could wait—right now she wanted something substantial.

The first bite was heavenly. The perfect blend of spices, the tender yet firm pasta. She couldn’t chew fast enough.

Tanner returned with a bottle of water and set it next to her plate. She nodded her thanks but didn’t stop eating. It was only after she’d finished the serving of pasta and reached for the salad that she glanced at him.

“Sorry to be such a pig.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He took the seat opposite hers and served himself some pasta. “Why didn’t you eat while you were kidnapped? Did you think a hunger strike would get their attention?”

She shrugged, choosing not to read any criticism into his words. “I never planned on avoiding food. For the first couple of days I was too scared to eat. Every time I tried, it wouldn’t stay down. Eventually I was able to handle very small portions. A half a slice of toast in the morning. A cup of soup in the afternoon. Some people eat more when they’re stressed—I eat less. Those people didn’t believe me when I told them. They threatened to feed me themselves, using force, but it never came to that.”

He studied her as she spoke. She would love to know what he was thinking, but then again, maybe not. Tanner had made it clear she wasn’t his favorite person on the planet. Why hear more of the same?

They ate in silence. She had two servings of salad and three of pasta. When she’d finished, she leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded. “Much. Thanks for cooking. You did a great job.”

He smiled again. “Yeah, I can boil up pasta better than almost anyone.”

The humor intrigued her. So far, her host had been all business. The smile softened his expression and added light to his eyes. It almost made him approachable. He was still dangerous, but it was nice to know there was a regular person under all that killer edge.

“I have some questions,” he said. “I want to get as much information on your ex-husband as possible. The more you tell me, the more it will help with the investigation.”

“Absolutely. I’ll tell you everything.”

The smile faded as if it had never existed and the warrior returned. He grabbed a notepad from the counter.

“Start at the beginning,” he said. “Where did you and Hilliard meet?”




Chapter 5


“My father brought Christopher home for dinner one evening,” Madison said. “They’d met at a conference. Christopher was very impressive. His parents had been killed while he was still in graduate school, but he’d managed to get his Ph.D. and run the family firm at the same time. My father admired his talent, his work ethic.”

Tanner scribbled some notes. “What did you admire?”

“Excuse me?”

“You married the guy. You must have liked something you saw.”

Right. Of course. Madison considered the question and wondered how to answer it. For her, those days were a lifetime ago. Maybe someone else’s lifetime.

“I was a different person back then,” she said slowly. Tension filled her body. Rather than sit and feel awkward, she stood and began to clear the table. “Different things impressed me. Christopher was smart and charming and sophisticated. He swept me off my feet. We were engaged two months after we met, and married three months after that. I didn’t get to know the real man until sometime later.”

“Who is the real man?”

Nothing in Tanner’s voice gave away what he was thinking. Madison rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher as she tried to form an answer.

How could she explain what was only a feeling?

“He has a dark side. He likes to gamble. He could drop a million dollars at a table and not even blink. He also has a temper. He can fly into a rage without warning.” She was careful to speak without actually dwelling on the past. She didn’t want to disappear into those memories.

“People tended to cross him only one time. He made sure they didn’t do it twice,” she said.

“Interesting, but not exactly the characteristics of someone willing to kidnap or kill.”

She dried her hands on a towel and faced him. “You don’t believe me?”

“I need more than this. Tell me about his company. You said he took it over when his parents died. How did they die?”

She rinsed the pasta pot, then put it on the top shelf of the dishwasher. “A car accident. They’d gone away skiing and they lost control of their car on an icy road.”

“Was there any investigation into their deaths?”

“What? No. Why would there be?”

“If you think Hilliard is capable of having you kidnapped and killed, why not do away with his parents, too?”

“But he…” The thought stunned her. Was it possible? Could he have done that? “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Maybe he could have.”

“Tell me about your father’s company.”

She wiped off the counters, then returned to the table. “Adams Electronics makes tracking equipment for the military. As soon as someone creates a stealth technology, someone else tries to figure out a way to make it obsolete. My father’s company has several contracts with the military. They bring him different foreign technologies and he finds a way around them.”

“But the family fortune can’t all come from military contracts.”

“It doesn’t. There are usually by-product discoveries, and that’s where the real money comes from.”

Tanner continued to write. His impersonal, professional manner made it easier for her to think about the past. It was more distant with him around, plus there was no way Christopher could find her here.

“You’re the only child,” he said, more a statement than a question.

“Yes. I’m sure my father wanted more children. Certainly a son to carry on in his footsteps. I was never very interested in the family business. I don’t have the math gene.”

“Not everyone does. Your mother?”

Madison leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “She’s, um, dead. It’s been about ten years. She didn’t have the math gene, either, although she could trace her lineage back to the Mayflower. Very east-coast old money, old family. My father was an upstart scientist who stole her away from her Ivy League fiancé.”

“What does his family do?”

Madison frowned. “The old boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s in construction. Skyscrapers and hotels.”

“So there’s nothing to connect him to this situation?”

“No.”

“So what’s Hilliard into that’s so hot?” he asked.

“Some kind of innovative jamming technology. What I’m hearing is that it’s the first jamming device that can’t be defeated. So if someone were trying to track, say, your plane, and you were able to jam their radar signals, you could fly virtually invisible.”

“Get a fighter jet right over D.C. and no one would know?”

“Exactly.”

“Powerful.”

“If it happens, it’s going to be worth millions.”

Tanner tapped the pen. “Maybe worth enough to kill for.”

She didn’t want to think about that.

“Is he smart enough to do it?” Tanner asked.

“I don’t know. My father thinks so. He’s been very excited about the project for over a year now.” Blaine had always mentioned it when she’d first tried to talk about why she was leaving Christopher. As if her husband’s brilliance was reason enough to stay.

“If Hilliard builds it, can your father figure out how to work around it?”

“He didn’t seem very confident about the possibilities.”

“Is he in on the deal with Hilliard?”

She knew what he meant. Were the two men working together to create more interest? Blaine Adams saying there was a technology he couldn’t defeat was like Santa Claus announcing that he’d given up the toy business.

“I don’t want to believe that about my father,” she said quietly. “He’s a good man. A little forgetful when it comes to interpersonal relationships, but not about his business. He has integrity.”

“Which doesn’t mean he can’t be bought.”

“Money isn’t important to him.”

Tanner wanted to believe her. She looked so damned earnest, sitting there all stiff and defiant. But he couldn’t ignore a possibility just because it got her panties in a twist.

“If Hilliard has so much money, why doesn’t he pay his bills?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It’s almost a point of honor with him. Like he’s getting away with something. Most people aren’t willing to take him on. They just grumble. There have been a couple of lawsuits, but they always get dropped.”

She wasn’t painting a picture of a very nice guy, Tanner thought. How had Hilliard swept her off her feet?

She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “How is that man? The one who works for you and was injured.”

Concern darkened her eyes and pulled at her mouth. Tanner didn’t want to think about Kelly or the fact that the kid might not recover. He didn’t want to have to make that phone call to his family or miss the kid himself.

“Holding his own. He survived the surgery.”

“I’m sorry he was injured.”

“You didn’t shoot him.”

“But it’s still—”

He didn’t want to talk about it so he said, “If your theory of Hilliard kidnapping you for the ransom money is right, then he’s got to be pissed he missed out on his twenty million.”

She perked up. “He didn’t get the money?”

“I had it intercepted and returned directly to your father. Last I heard, it was already back in his account.”

“I’m glad,” she said fiercely.

“What would he need the money for?”

“Gambling debts.”

“He’s not in that deep.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I checked.”

“Then I don’t know. Is he buying someone off for something? Maybe he stole the technology he’s claiming as his own.”





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